


Slippery When Wet

by Lexalicious70



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Eliot is horny, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, risky sex, telekinetic powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 19:17:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12239061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexalicious70/pseuds/Lexalicious70
Summary: Eliot takes advantage of a broken water pipe and an abandoned bathroom to give Quentin a midday surprise.





	Slippery When Wet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gizmo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gizmo/gifts).



> This is for Gizmo, who happily obliged me with a smut prompt! I hope you like it. I don’t own The Magicians, they own me. This is just for fun and because smut is like therapy. Comments and kudos are magic! Enjoy!

Slippery When Wet

By Lexalicious70

 

One of the most ironic things about Brakebills, Quentin reflected as he hurried along a hallway packed with other young magicians, was that sometimes this magical place wasn’t much different than Columbia U or even the high school he’d attended in the Brooklyn burbs: as amazing as the curriculum was, the hallways were still packed in between classes and being jammed within the masses threatened to trigger Quentin’s anxiety, just as it had back at his other schools.

 

There were no buzzers or bells at Brakebills, and students were usually dismissed once their professors were satisfied that the day’s work had been completed to their satisfaction. Quentin sometimes had stayed behind for as long as ninety minutes his first few weeks of class to perfect a spell or perform a Popper movement correctly, but today he was being swept along with the masses with twenty-odd minutes to go before his PA class.

 

At least Eliot and Margo would be there, if they didn’t decide to skip it and portal to some exotic pub somewhere instead.

 

“Sorry!” Quentin blurted as someone’s backpack struck him hard on the left shoulder. “Sorry, excuse—” He staggered as someone behind him stepped on the back of his shoe. He glanced over his shoulder, only to be spun halfway in the other direction by a passing professor, his arms piled high with textbooks. The stack threatened to spill over and Quentin raised one arm to shield himself.

 

“Mind yourself, Mr. Coldwater!” The professor called out briskly as he passed, the Suessian stack of books swaying, and Quentin paused.

 

“Sorr—” He got moving again as the crowd surged behind him. A few students went around him, scowling as they passed, and Quentin readjusted the strap of his messenger bag.

 

_God! Why doesn’t a hole just open up and swallow—_

Quentin’s anxiety-tinged thoughts were cut off at the knees as a door swung open at the extreme corner of his vision and a hand grabbed the back of his shirt collar. He gave an undignified yelp of panic as he was jerked backwards, his arms windmilling. The door swung shut again, but not before Quentin glimpsed two signs on its front:

 

MEN

OUT OF ORDER

 

“What the hell?” Quentin snapped, and a big, elegant hand, adorned with rings, turned him.

 

“Shhh!” Eliot put a long, thin finger to Quentin’s lips. Quentin glared up at his lover.

 

“Eliot! What are you doing?” He glanced around. One of the two bathroom stalls was taped shut, a puddle of water spreading out from under the grey door. Eliot kicked the wedge-shaped steel doorstop under the closed main door until it was firmly jammed in the space underneath it and then turned to Quentin, smiling, mischief making his amber eyes bright.

 

“Relax, Quentin. Didn’t I just pluck you from a raging river of human interaction? A little gratitude!” One hand tugged at Quentin’s tie and Quentin slapped it away.

 

“Quit it! We need to get to PA, we’ve only got about—oh—” The younger magician’s eyes widened slightly and language eluded him as Eliot tugged him forward by his tie and warm, eager lips attacked his neck, above the collar of his shirt. “Fifteen . . .minutes . . .” Quentin’s eyes closed as Eliot’s lips traveled around to just under his right ear, where they explored and nuzzled.

 

“What have I told you before, about time?”

 

“Uhm. S’an illusion?” Quentin asked as a lot of blood started to migrate south. Eliot chuckled and Quentin shivered as warm breath blew into his ear.

 

“Oh, that’s very good, Mr. Coldwater! You go to the head of the class.” Eliot loosened Quentin’s tie and unbuttoned his shirt until his navel was exposed, then parted it as he bent his head down, cupping and massaging Quentin’s right pec before sucking a nipple into his mouth. Quentin’s knees threatened to buckle and his messenger bag thumped to the floor.

 

“Fuck!” He gasped, watching as Eliot’s hands dropped to his belt, where they worked it open and then unzipped his fly. Quentin stroked his hands over Eliot’s brunette curls, winding a few around one finger. Cool air hit his thighs and ass a moment later as Eliot jerked his slacks and boxers down, and then Eliot lifted him, kissing him as he walked up to the line of broad white porcelain urinals that lined one wall. They were sturdy and deep, with a wide lip, and Eliot grinned, his lips shiny from sucking Quentin’s nipple, as he set Quentin on the rim of one.

 

“Don’t worry. They’re clean and haven’t been used . . . the bathroom’s been closed off for a few days now.” Eliot undid his own slacks and let them and his boxers puddle around his ankles. Quentin felt the cold touch of the porcelain on the back of his neck and ass, reaching up behind him to grab a thick pipe that ran from the ceiling down between two of the urinals. Eliot grinned. “Assuming the position on your own? Daddy’s pleased!” He reached down and lifted Quentin’s ankles until his loafer-clad feet rested on his shoulders. Quentin squirmed, staring up at him.

 

“Eliot wait, this—we shouldn’t . . . oh.” He groaned as Eliot began to rub the head of his leaking cock between Quentin’s asscheeks, making it slick with his fluids.

 

“Shouldn’t we?” Eliot asked. “Why not, Q? Are you afraid of being caught? Are you afraid someone might see us or hear us?” He leaned in closer, positioning himself, and Quentin gasped as he felt the broad head of his lover’s cock leak against him. “Or maybe you’re afraid of how much that thought might turn on you on. Even super-nerds like you have kinks . . .” Eliot bucked his hips and Quentin bit his lower lip to stifle a cry of pleasure. “Sometimes it’s the nerdiest ones who have the deepest and darkest!” Eliot’s hands stroked over Quentin’s chest, long, clever fingers tweaking and rubbing his nipples, before they slid up and pinned his wrists against the wall, on the either side of the pipe, Quentin’s lean body now snugged securely between the urinal and Eliot’s body, his legs angled up sharply. Outside, the rise and fall of conversation and hurried footfalls reached them.

 

“El . . .” Quentin stared up at him as Eliot’s long, thick shaft filled him over and over, causing a rising tide of pleasure that would soon threaten to spill over his internal breakwall with a massive orgasm. This idea, coupled with the thought that he was still in his Brakebills uniform and was having risky sex, sent sharp thrills through his lower belly and thighs, and Eliot groaned as he felt his lover clench around him. He force-pinned Quentin’s hands with his telekinesis and dropped one of his own to Quentin’s erection as the other stroked though his tawny brown hair and over his chest. He leaned over and Quentin gave a muffled whine as it caused Eliot to sink in even deeper.

 

“They’re all right outside, Q . . . Fogg could burst in any moment, or Van der Wegh or even Alice . . . can you imagine what Alice would say if she caught me fucking you like this, in a leaky, abandoned bathroom, fucking your tight little ass, so close to coming, just imagine their faces—” Eliot’s hand moved faster as Quentin’s cock jerked hard and then began to spurt. Quentin arched up, his legs tensing against Eliot’s shoulders, and Eliot slapped his other hand over his lover’s mouth to gag his cries. Quentin’s dark eyes widened in surprise and then in arousal— _add mild to moderate bondage to Quentin’s secret list of kinks,_ Eliot thought to himself, and then another hard clench blanked out the magician’s thoughts as orgasm washed over every nerve, causing them to fire off in a round of delicious contractions. He bucked his hips hard, pressing Quentin into the porcelain fixture, watching Quentin come all over his own chest, and then he released the smaller man’s hands. They dropped down and Eliot pulled away before helping Quentin bring his legs down.

 

“Oh.” Quentin managed to say, leaning against the urinal, looking dazed and sticky and rumpled. Eliot gathered some paper towels from the nearby dispenser and wiped down Quentin’s chest and groin before cleaning himself off as well. Quentin buttoned his shirt with shaking hands, but his cheeks were glowing and flushed. “Shit . . . everyone’s going to know.” He said, hastily tying his tie, and Eliot grinned as he straightened the knot.

 

“That’s the fun of it, Q. Did he or didn’t he? And if he did, who did he do it with and where?” He cupped Quentin’s chin and kissed him. Quentin grinned a little after the kiss broke and Eliot took out his pocket watch to glance at the time.

 

“We still have three minutes to make it to PA—if we hurry.”

 

Quentin slipped his arms around Eliot’s waist and turned him until the taller man’s back bumped against one of the closed stall doors. Eliot blinked down at him as Quentin’s hands quested down his lower back to cup his ass. His smile was full of promise.

 

“So we’re a little late.”

 

FIN

 


End file.
